


Blessings

by jaradel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Christmas at 221B Baker Street, M/M, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaradel/pseuds/jaradel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I missed this. Us, together..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 221B ficlet I wrote to include in Christmas cards to some of my Sherlockian friends. Can read as gen, pre-slash, or established relationship. Definitely post-Reichenbach, implied post-series 3, though how far in the future this is set depends largely on how series 3 ends. No spoilers though.
> 
> Beta'ed by the lovely [agameofscones (orithea)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/orithea/pseuds/agameofscones). Thanks darling!
> 
> And a happy Christmas to you all. Thank you for reading!

                The lamps were turned off, the kitchen dark; the only light in the flat came from the fireplace and the illuminated tree in the far corner, temporarily displacing the aluminium-framed leather chair. The party guests had left hours ago, and in the wee hours of Christmas morning, the two inhabitants of 221B Baker Street sat together on the sofa, sipping mulled wine and basking in warmth and silence.

                “I missed this. Us, together,” John murmured, leaning his head on Sherlock’s shoulder.

                “As did I,” Sherlock rumbled, resting his cheek on John’s hair. He shifted fractionally closer to his friend, melding his angular form against John’s stocky frame, and the ghost of a contented sigh slipped past his lips. He _had_ missed this more than he cared to admit, and though it had been terrible circumstances that brought John back home (and it was always _their_ home, since the start), he could find no fault with the result. John was here, by Sherlock’s side – personally, professionally, in every way that had ever mattered – and though no words were spoken, it was understood that they would never part again.

                “Happy Christmas, Sherlock,” John said, closing his eyes.

                “It is indeed,” replied the detective. He had never set much store by the religious implications of Christmas, but in this moment he felt truly blessed.


End file.
